


Alternate John Breakup Scene (Unbound Outtake)

by Cesare, helens78



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Break Up, Collars, M/M, Outtakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare, https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An outtake from Unbound (taking place roughly around Ch. 49).  Erik and John have been doing okay for the last year, even getting to a point where Erik was ready to offer John a collar.  But the anniversary pull ruins everything, like it always has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Erik and John, December 2009

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first scene written for Unbound (last September!), and it was Jossed so hard we actually removed it altogether. By the time we got to this point in the story, we actually had another character in the mix to fill a lot of the "Erik's stopgap/best friend" needs, so John ended up as Erik's rebound emfriend, not even getting close to this serious with Erik.
> 
> This DOES NOT fit into any of the major Unbound storylines, it's just there as an outtake/Easter egg/there on its own. :)
> 
> Our mental casting for John is [Viggo Mortensen](http://helens78.tumblr.com/tagged/john). Thank you, A Dangerous Method, for bringing together two of our fandoms (XMFC + LotRPS). :D

Neither one of them much cares for malls, let alone during the holiday season, but John has two brothers-- both happily bonded, both with kids-- and Erik isn't doing anything else this afternoon.

"You _seriously_ don't have to go with me," John says. "The crowds are going to be a pain, there's not gonna be anything fun about this--"

Erik comes over to John and slips his hands onto John's shoulders. "I know," he says. "Can I go along anyway?"

John looks up at him with a smile-- one of those little smiles that makes Erik feel some strange combination of protective and defiant and selfish, wanting to keep John close to him forever. It's never going to be the fit they'd like-- Erik isn't Ned and John isn't Erik's lost soulmate, either-- but little by little, day by day, it's starting to be enough.

"Of course," John says. He digs the keys to his truck out of his pocket and holds them up. "Want to drive?"

* * *

John doesn't have a shopping list or anything like that; he window-shops, going from store to store until he sees something that reminds him of his brothers, their bondmates, and their children. It's a long day through the mall, past store after store, and Erik ends up carrying John's packages while John smiles and chatters with salespeople. A perfectly ordinary day, part of Erik's perfectly ordinary life. Things could be worse.

Another dom beladen with his sub's packages wanders over to the bench Erik's seated at; he nods down at the empty half. "Anybody sitting there?"

"No, let me make some space," Erik says, removing one of John's bags from the bench and setting it down at his feet. "There."

"Thanks." The dom takes a quick look at Erik, but Erik must pass muster; he doesn't bat an eyelash. "Mine's off at Lush, where's yours?"

Erik points at the tea shop, where John's sniffing different teas from the huge canisters along the wall. A salesgirl seems to be flirting heavily with him, but Erik would bet money that John hasn't even noticed. "He's over there."

The other dom chuckles. "You must have him wrapped up pretty good. If my girl were getting that kind of attention from a salesgirl, she'd be flirting right back."

Erik smiles a little. "We're not much for open relations," he says softly.

"Damn." The dom gives Erik a sideways look and smiles. "Well, there goes the rest of my approach."

Erik blinks at him. "What? John?" He nods back into the tea shop.

"Nah. He looks great, but he's a little old for me." And this time the look isn't sideways, it's full-on, and Erik finds himself stiffening around the neck and shoulders. "I thought maybe you--"

"I don't sub," Erik snaps. "Excuse me--"

"Whoa, damn, I wasn't--" The other dom stands up as Erik's gathering up his packages. "I wasn't assuming, okay? I just-- I don't know, I kind of got a vibe from you, but I'd never-- it's cool if you don't, _I_ roll over sometimes--"

"I think I'd better be going," Erik says, and packages in hand, he heads into the tea shop.

When he looks back, the other dom's gone.

* * *

Erik slows and finally stops; John notices a few steps later and turns around, looking into the jewelry store window with him. Erik's caught up, looking at a few dogtag-style collars, wood-trimmed, tungsten base. He swallows, and when John brushes the backs of his fingers against the back of Erik's hand, Erik sets his bags down and lets John slip his hand into Erik's, lacing their fingers together and squeezing hard.

"Come on," John says softly; he couldn't be more gentle about it.

"Are you..." Erik looks at him now, meeting his eyes. "Are you interested?"

They haven't talked about it. Not in bed, not for so much as a play collar, not for anything. But here they are, six months in, looking at a selection of beautiful wood-and-metal collars, and Erik's hand goes tight on John's.

"Yes," John says simply, and Erik lets out a shaking, unsteady breath. "If it feels right to you." He looks into the case and squeezes Erik's hand in return. "They're beautiful. I like them."

Erik nods. "Maybe you could go on without me for a little while," he says. "I'll hold onto your bags if you like."

"No, I got 'em." John smiles, squeezing Erik's hand one more time and then letting go. "It's sweet of you to carry them for me, but I'm a liberated sub, I've got no problem carrying my own."

"I'll only be a few minutes," Erik promises. "I'll catch up to you soon."

"No hurry." John starts to reach for the bags and then stops, pulling Erik into his arms instead. "Do what _feels_ right," he whispers. "I'm not going to ask you for anything more than that."

Again, Erik nods, and when John slips off, he heads into the jewelry store. It takes longer to convince the salesman that he doesn't need to look at _other_ collars than it does to pick out the one he had in mind for John; when he finally gets the wood-and-tungsten collar out of the case, it's only a few minutes before he's got it wrapped up in a presentation case, a gift box, and bright red wrapping paper.

Erik holds onto the box with both hands as he walks out of the store. _Do what feels right_ , John said. It's never going to feel as right as it could-- his own neck _burns_ for something like this, for any kind of collar or claim from a man he knows he'll never meet-- but it feels as right as anything can. It feels right _enough_ , right enough for now. Right enough to build a little bit of hope on.


	2. Erik and John, April 2010

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild references to Erik's unwanted relationship with Shaw here.

April hurts.

April has always hurt, but it's worse now that Erik's with John. They're coming up on a year now; if they can make it to June, if Erik can hold out until June, it'll be a full year. Maybe that's what it takes to break the spell; maybe if he can hold out a few more weeks, just a _few fucking more weeks_ \--

He wakes up on a quiet April morning, shaking from head to foot. It's like having a fever, but not; after nine years of this ( _ten now_ , he has to remind himself, _this year makes ten, tenth anniversary_ ), he's too familiar with the sensations to mistake it for anything else. His hands dig into the sheets, tighten into fists. _Please no please no please..._

It wakes John up, of course, not that Erik expected otherwise. John lifts himself up on one elbow and takes a good hard look at Erik, and he grabs Erik's jaw, thumb pressing hard into his cheek, fingers digging in too. "Don't you fucking think about it," John growls, but it isn't just morning that's roughening his voice. "Don't you get out of this bed. _No._ "

 _I have to_ , Erik thinks, _I have to, I have to_ , and he whispers it the last time, "I have to," fingers so tight in the sheets that he's nearly tearing the fabric. "I have to, I'm _sorry_ , I have to--"

John shoves the covers aside and climbs onto him, putting both hands on Erik's face. "You don't have to," he whispers. "You don't have to go, we can get you through this, I swear, I'll be right here with you, _right fucking here_ , we're gonna _get you through this_ \--"

He brings his mouth down on Erik's, and Erik gasps, reaching up for him, wrapping his arms around John's waist. John keeps kissing him, harsh and claiming, and Erik throws himself into that kiss, tries to make himself believe that there's nothing else in this world, nothing outside John and how badly John wants him to stay.

John wants him here, _now_ , _wants_ him. They're together because they've _chosen_ each other and not because of some fucking curse of a mistaken soulbond. John wants him even if he's not perfect, not the so-called perfect match that soulmates are supposed to be.

John knows about his mother, dead and gone; about his father, lost long before Erik ever had a chance to know him; about the foster homes, the severing, Sebastian, the way Erik could command metal once upon a time and can still sense it, feel sensations through it, even now. He knows Erik still has an unerring sense of direction, like a living compass.

He knows about the scars, has promised that when he's sure enough with a knife he'll give Erik memories Erik _wants_ to keep on his skin. He's told Erik about his past, too, meeting Ned when they were both teenagers, the twelve years they had together. Erik's seen all the ways John's ability manifests, and he's not afraid of it; like he said when they got started, the bittersweet effect of having already had the worst possible thing happen to him is that prophecy doesn't hold anything more to frighten him.

It's enough; this _life_ is enough. More and more it _feels_ like a life and not just sleepwalking through eleven and a half months a year, between desperate, ugly encounters with a man who should never have been his dominant in the first place. Erik slides his hands down from John's shoulders to his waist, scratching lightly, the way John likes, the way Erik wishes someone would do to _him_ \-- _not fair, it's enough, why can't I have this,_ why _\--_

"That's it," John breathes. "That's it, just..." He bends his head down and kisses Erik's neck, kisses his shoulder. Erik draws his hands down to John's ass and squeezes, and John gives in immediately, gasping and grinding down against Erik's cock. "Yeah-- _good_ \-- just like this, I'm ready, c'mon, I want this, I _want_ it--"

Erik leans over and opens the nightstand drawer, fumbling for the lube. Once he's got it, he pops it open and slicks his palm, gets his hand messy with it. He eases John back and sweeps the lube over his cock, and John grabs up the bottle, too, pressing two fingers into himself with quiet efficiency. As soon as he's stretched enough for it, he presses himself down on Erik's cock, both of them groaning.

It's enough. It has to be, because there's nothing else, just this, sex and friendship and affection, Erik's desire to be good to John-- and running out on him now in order to be with someone who's hurt him, who doesn't want him, who's probably struggling against this every bit as much as Erik is... that's not being good to him at all.

One of John's hands is sticky when he cups Erik's face again, but Erik doesn't care. He stares up at John, making himself believe-- as best he can-- that this is going to be the year he breaks the spell.

"You can do this," John breathes. "You can do it, you can _stay_ , I've _seen_ it, stay with me, _stay_ \--"

"You've seen--" Erik grabs John by the hips. "I stay? You've seen that?"

John closes his eyes. "I know you _can_."

But that's not the answer Erik was hoping for, and it wrenches at him, makes him drag John down, as close as he can get. _I want to_ , he thinks about saying, and can't; _I love you_ , he's thought about saying, and never could. John gets a hand between them, strokes himself off rough and fast, and that's it, it's over-- Erik can't keep going, can't stay hard enough to keep them locked together. John grits his teeth together as he comes, but even the soft sounds he makes aren't enough; Erik feels himself slipping free even as John's come streaks over Erik's stomach.

John collapses on Erik's chest, breathing hard. Erik holds onto him, shaking all over again, but their time's growing short-- he can feel it, he can _feel_ that.

"Stay with me," John whispers. "We can beat this thing, we can get you away from him for good. Just don't go."

Erik hugs John one last time and gently eases John over on his side. He's still shaking as he draws away, and he can't bear to look at John as he gets dressed.

* * *

He doesn't even pack.

He gathers up his wallet, Sebastian's tarnished silver collar, the windcatcher that should have belonged to his dominant. There's nothing else.

John disagrees. He takes the bills out of the jar on the kitchen counter-- two hundred dollars, not much, but enough to keep Erik fed while he travels. The jar was marked _Yellowstone_ ; Erik has to clench both hands to keep from breaking down. He'd always wondered if he could go that far west, with the East Coast calling to him the way it has since he was a boy; now it looks like he'll never know.

"You can come home when it's over," John says, folding the bills and slipping them into Erik's jacket pocket. "Come back. We'll start over, try again. I'll still be here."

Erik shakes his head. He can't say it out loud-- can't say _anything_ out loud, it hurts too much to talk-- but he lifts a hand up, reaching out for John's collar.

John's eyes go wide, and he slaps a hand over the tag; he clenches it hard in his fist. "Don't," he says. "Erik, _don't_ \--"

They're the hardest six words he's ever had to say, and it burns his throat getting them out in the air. "You know I'm not coming back."

"I _don't_ ," John growls. "I _don't_ know that, _even I don't know that_." He's holding onto the collar so hard his knuckles are going white. "Don't end it like this. _Please_. Erik, _please_."

"I can't let you wait for me. I'm not coming back." Erik takes a deep breath. "You know what I am, you've always known-- half a man, you deserve better than that--"

"Don't you fucking tell me what I deserve." John steps forward, one hand still gripping his collar, the other one slipping around the back of Erik's neck. "I know everything you've been and everything he did to you and I _love you_. And if you have to go, then you go, but come back-- come _home_ \-- and we'll patch you up together. And maybe next year he won't have this hold on you, maybe by this time next year we'll find a way to get him out of your head--"

Erik settles his hands on John's arms and gently pushes him back. "I can't keep pretending--"

"-- _pretending_? Fuck that--"

"I can't keep pretending I can do this--"

"You're doing it, you've _been_ doing it. Almost a year now, we've been together almost a year, you're not pretending _anything_." John isn't given to tears, not usually, but now he's either angry enough or grieving enough that his eyes are shining with them. "I know you can't say it, but you fucking love me, I _know_ you do, how the hell can you walk out on me for a man you _hate_ \--"

Erik's startled enough to lose his grip on John's arms. "For-- it's not for Sebastian, it's never been for Sebastian--"

"Then _what_?"

"I _let_ him," Erik says, the pain and guilt still so tangled around his heart that he has to stop and breathe after he lets that out. "I _let_ him sever the bond. I _let_ him kill my dominant. When the bond was cut and I was dying, I begged him to save me instead of just letting myself die the way I--"

John slaps a hand over Erik's mouth. "You were seventeen," he says roughly. "He _mutilated_ you, and you were scared, and thank God you had enough strength to survive any way you could."

Erik wraps his fingers gently around John's wrist and draws his hand away. "I can never make up for it," he says quietly. "I know that. Whatever Sebastian does to me... I deserve it."

"Do you really think your dominant would have wanted you to give yourself over to that bastard out of some fucked-up idea of penance? He would have _loved_ you. This isn't what he would have wanted for you--"

"It's not penance." Erik closes his eyes and presses John's hand to his cheek, taking that last little bit of strength from him, grateful and guilty all at once. "It's not _just_ penance. It's grief. Shame. Regret. What happened to us was my fault. And maybe I owe Sebastian for it, too. He doesn't want this any more than I do. I know that much by now."

"I can't change your mind, can I?" John asks, thumb rubbing gently across Erik's cheek. "I thought-- all the way up until now, I thought there was a chance, there was one strand out of a thousand that said I could talk you into staying. And there it went." He lets out a slow, shaky breath. "All roads lead away, now. You're really going."

"I'm sorry." Erik swallows. "Your collar. I need to take it off you."

John cringes, but he nods, turning around and going to his knees. He reaches up, one hand gently cupped beneath the tag, and Erik unclasps the chain, carefully reaching around to settle it into John's open hand.

"With respect and appreciation for all you've given me," Erik says-- barely managing the traditional words, and hating how well he has them memorized, as if he's been rehearsing this moment since he put the collar on John in the first place, "I release you."

He walks around and offers John his hand, the final gesture meant to put a dominant and a submissive on equal footing again once a relationship meets its end. John takes Erik's hand and lets Erik help him to his feet.

"I meant it," John whispers, clutching Erik's hand. "I'll wait for you."

"Do you see anything that tells you I'm coming back?" Erik asks; he's not cruel about it, not asking it in order to wound. He needs to know.

John lets go of Erik's hand and slips the collar into his pocket. "Too early to say," he tells Erik. "I'll take the chance."

Erik walks out of their home, heart aching, the weight of the misshapen bond heavy at the base of his skull. The pressure eases, step-by-step, as he walks into town, as he catches a bus to the train station. He looks at the board, considering each option, resting his eyes on every city name, one at a time, until one of them tugs at him a little more than the rest.

"Washington," he tells the ticket agent, and when he's on the train, he rests his head against the window, hating the way the weight's coming off the bond, the way it feels like he's going home.


End file.
